I Scream, You Scream!
by nericearren
Summary: Damian is less than enthused when Dick and Stephanie drag him to the annual opening of a popular ice cream store. He and Steph bicker constantly; but in the end, everyone gets their just desserts. Includes people braving extreme cold for free ice cream-people, I admire you!


Dick is driving, and Stephanie is in the passenger's seat, and they're both chanting "I-ice cream! I-ice cream!" like children. "I scream, you scream!" Stephanie sings out.

"We all scream for ice cream!" Dick replies.

They feed off of each other.

In the backseat, I sink further down, burrowing my face in my puffy winter coat, and scowl. My huff creates a cloud of humidity on the glass of the car window. "It's the middle of winter." I grumble. "This is ridiculous."

Stephanie twists around in her seat so that she can see me, beaming over the pink scarf that's wrapped around her neck and chin. "It's the first ice cream of the season, Damian!" she says excitedly, as if that fixes everything.

"Yeah. It's like a rite of passage." Dick adds, glancing in the rearview mirror at me. He has a navy blue ski cap jammed down to his eyebrows, and his army jacket is zipped up to the top. Even with the heat on at full blast, the cold outside permeates the car, bringing promises of frostbite when we finally get out. Stephanie is seemingly oblivious to the cold, her eyes alight with the prospect of-

"I-ice cream! I-ice cream!" They begin again.

I fold my arms and wish for a different family.

We pull into the parking lot of the Ben&Jerry's, where a long line of people are already queued out the glass doors. I watch in dismay, seeing them stamp their feet, blow on their hands, and jitter in place.

"This is ridiculous." I say again.

"It's _free ice cream_." Dick says, swinging into a parking space. He somehow manages to sandwich our monstrous gray minivan in a space that looks to be about the width of a yardstick. I have to squeeze out with the door less than half open, and Stephanie has to crawl over two rows of seats to climb out of the trunk because she's too fat to do the same.

"See, you really don't need ice cream." I point out to her as she finally lands, breathless and rosy-cheeked, beside me on the pavement. "It will just expand your already chubby figure."Dick slams the trunk shut and gives me a look that tells me not to start anything in public.

Stephanie crosses her arms. "It's my hips!" she protests, and proceeds to pull up her jacket and shirt to prove it to me. I try to ignore her as she sidles up to me, tugging the waistband of her jeans down slightly to emphasize. "See? Feel-bone. Feel!" she actually grabs my hand and makes me feel her hip, which is embarrassing on several levels. "It's a girl thing-our hips get bigger when we go through puberty. I'm not fat!"

I carefully and swiftly extricate my hand. Stephanie's hips are not a subject I wish to be discussing in the parking lot of an ice cream store-or ever, if I'm honest. Dick is off to the side, smirking and being not at all helpful. I yank Stephanie's jacket back down. "Cover yourself. I'm losing my appetite."

She pouts. "You don't like me at all, do you?"

"An amazing deduction." I mutter.

Stephanie sidles up to me, catlike. "You don't think I'm pretty, do you?"

There's no good answer to that question. "I'm sure there are men out there who are willing to overlook your obvious flaws." I say, trying to be gracious. "But I must admit to finding your need to have an eleven-year-old boy verify your beauty somewhat indicative of your shaky mental state and fragile ego."

"Stop fencing just because you hate talking about boobs!" she snaps.

"I never mentioned your-"

Dick herds us towards the end of the line. "C'mon, guys, knock it off. Free ice cream heals all wounds."

"You need all the sweetness you can get." Stephanie tells me, sticking her tongue out. I stick mine right back-somehow, she makes me act childish without even trying.

The line is long, and it's predictably cold outside. Maybe, for some states, April is the beginning of warm weather; but not in New England. It snowed just last week, and I'd swear that the temperature is below 30 right now. Everyone is bundled up in coats, scarves, and hats; total strangers huddle together for warmth, heads down against the biting wind that serves to add to the chilly misery.

"This is ridiculous." I say, for the third time. Stephanie worms her way under Dick's arm, and he rubs her shoulders vigorously to warm her up, shivering himself. I stuff my hands in my pockets and focus my efforts on trying not to shiver. I'm not going to expose myself to more opportunities for "Hug Time For Damian!", which seems to be Dick and Stephanie's favorite pastime these days. I still feel rather betrayed that Father left me in the control of these two maniacal, overgrown children who have serious boundary issues.

"It's too bad that no one else could make it." Stephanie says. "I remember last year-" she breaks off, and giggles.

Dick starts to laugh, too, which annoys me because I wasn't here last year, and they're purposely being rude by leaving me out. "Tim's face-" Dick says, not finishing, and they laugh again.

Stephanie pulls back from him and turns to me, explaining, "Last time we came, even Bruce was with us, and we pretty much made up half the line. The servers actually tried to hide when they saw how many people there were, since, like, every single person that we ever met came. And Tim was all like," she snickers. "ordering something wicked complicated, just to be mean."

"What was it again?" Dick asks, reminiscent. "Double strawberry, triple something, with . . ."

"Double strawberry Black Cherry crunch." Stephanie corrects. "With triple chocolate, on a sugar cone, in a cup. Hold the nuts."

They laugh again. I cock an eyebrow. "Harassing an ice cream server? Hilarious."

"I guess you had to be there." Steph says, which is pretty much the most rude, exclusive, annoying line in the history of such lines.

Speaking of lines, ours has moved while the children were guffawing, and we now advance two big steps towards the-hopefully-warmer interior of the ice cream store.

"Of course, there's a bigger turnout this year." Dick says. No kidding-nearly fifty people are jammed into the store alone, and at least twenty more are waiting outside like us.

I shift from one foot to another, and Stephanie shuffles up besides me and wraps me in her arms. "I'm fine." I squirm, wanting her to let go. She presses her cold nose against my neck, and I yelp.

"Hey, hey-" Dick warns. "No horsing-"

I trot over to the nearest snowbank and scoop up a handful.

"You wouldn't-" Stephanie begins, just before I pitch it at her face. "Here. If you're so eager for a frozen treat." I quip.

Stephanie snarls and lunges at me. "I regret ever teaching you how to make a snowball!"

I dodge her.

"You're going to lose your places in line." Dick warns, just as Stephanie catches me. She binds me with her arms again, only this time she means business. One of her arms is tight around my chest, and the puffy purple nylon that covers the over one obscures most of my vision as it wraps around my neck. It smells like sweat and snow and plastic.

Stephanie's cheek is cold against my neck before she pulls back, wrapping a leg around my shins to hold me as she loosens the hold of one arm to grab something.

"What are you-" I begin, before a cascade of snow slithers down my back, burning my hot back. "Aaah!"

Stephanie laughs and releases me, and I pull at the back of my jacket, trying to get the snow out. It melts a trail down to the base of my spine, where it soaks into my jeans. The denim promptly freezes solid in the cold weather.

I scowl at Stephanie, who is perfectly unabashed as she resumes her place in line.

It seems to take forever for the line to inch forwards and disappear, but soon Dick is pushing open the glass doors and we're stepping into a burst of warm air. It feels good, but it isn't long before the warmth becomes the stifling heat that results from too many people crammed in too small a space. I can't see the menu, and Dick actually lifts me onto his shoulders so that I can. I would protest the indignity, but it really is easier to read the menu, so I don't.

Stephanie jitters impatiently and unzips her jacket. Dick sets me back down, and I go to her, wrapping my arm around her waist under her jacket. Her back is soaked in sweat.

"Damian." she says, wary. I smile innocently up at her, which of course makes her more suspicious. "Just feeling your hips, like you wanted earlier."

"Don't take it out of context like that." she grumbles, and shifts away.

"Are you hot?" I ask her, pressing closer.

"Stop it."

I yank hard on the belt loop of her already low-rise jeans, and she yelps as they go down in the front. Luckily for her, her butt is too giant for the jeans to easily slide down over, so no one notices my antics. "Damian!"

"Just trying to cool you off." I say, moving to Dick's other side before she brains me. "I'm gonna-" she begins, lunging at me. Dick stops her. "I _said_, no horsing around! Geez, you guys; we're in public!" He fixes me with a stern look. "Damian, it's not polite to pants girls, no matter how irritating you find them."

I tug the zipper down on my own jacket and choose not to reply. Dick turns to Stephanie. "Stephanie, you're the adult. At least try to look like you're keeping your temper."

Stephanie glares at me, folding her arms around her midriff, and pivots on her heel so that she doesn't have to look at me. "He started it."

I can't believe that she'd resort to something so cliche. Actually . . . I would. "_She_ started it!" I protest, justly. "She dumped snow down my back!"

"After you threw a snowball at me!"

"After you hugged me!"

"It was _cold_! Everyone was doing it!"

"Everyone was doing the Locomotion, too, but that doesn't mean it was a good idea!"

She looks at me for a second, and since she isn't arguing back, I just look, too, until Dick breaks the standoff with a loud guffaw. We look at him, perplexed, and he ruffles my hair. "Hearing you two go at it makes me feel old."

"I'm not that much younger than you." Stephanie objects.

"I'm far more mature than you." I point out. Steph hits me on the arm and hisses, "Be nice to your brother!"

"Don't tell me what to do!" I snap, and Dick grabs my shoulder, hauling me away from Stephanie. "Okay, okay, no more arguing, you two. There's a limit."

"He's pissy." Stephanie grumbles.

"She's obsessed with boobs." I retort.

We both cross our arms and sulk until the line in front of us goes away, its place taken by an ice cream counter and a tired-looking cashier who, nevertheless, smiles at us. "Oh, it's good to see siblings still getting along at your ages." she coos. "I've been watching you since a while back." Great. "What can I get you?"

Dick orders, then Stephanie, and then it's my turn. It briefly crossed my mind to try pulling a stunt like Drake did, last year, but I don't want to be seen as copying him. Instead, I smile my brightest smile-which took a lot of practice to learn-and say, "Do you think you could take my sister, actually? She wouldn't mind being served to lots of guys."

Dick hauls me out of the store and locks me in the car.

And after all that, I never got my ice cream.


End file.
